


The Way Things Go (And The Choices We Make)

by ConsultingWriter



Series: The Nature of Things. [2]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Based in the Batman Beyond universe, Demon's Head Damian, Future Fic, M/M, Richard Grayson (kind of?), Timothy Drake (kind of?), mentions of character death that happened before the start of the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 15:29:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14381586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConsultingWriter/pseuds/ConsultingWriter
Summary: Damian is dealing with doubt in the aftermath of Jon's visit.He patted the headstone and mused aloud, “I do not think you would appreciate how far I’ve gone though.” He shrugged his shoulders, feeling a little more like his old self again; feeling more relaxed, here with his family, then he’d let himself feel in a long time. “If you wanted a say, you should not have gone and died.”





	The Way Things Go (And The Choices We Make)

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the story that explains why Damian became the Demon's Head! Yay? Unbeta'd as usual. I wrote this in a handful of hours so if you see any mistakes, just let me know.
> 
> Not gonna lie, I don't actually read Batman Beyond faithfully, so I have NO idea what happened to any of the bat boys are outside of Damian. 
> 
> Fun fact: According to a show that I saw on the Discovery Channel, if the power in America where to ever go out, millions of people who rely on medicine that needs refrigeration would in fact, die within a week.

Despite his tendency to globe trot, Damian only set foot in Gotham once a year, and he only ever went one place. His brothers’ graves.

His father finally had the complete collection, all settled in at the Wayne Family cemetery. Jason’s and Damian’s empty graves still stood, like patient lovers waiting to embrace them. Richard was buried carefully on Damian’s left and Timothy was laid on Dick’s other side. Four little birds all in a row. Damian didn’t even know where Pennyworth was laid to rest. Wasn’t sure if their faithful butler had been laid to rest in the grounds that he’d loved or if his family had claimed him and had had him buried elsewhere instead.

He placed the bouquet of flowers he’d brought—only one, because he knew neither of his brothers would’ve actually appreciated the flowers—on the ground between the graves and followed them down. He kneeled at Richard’s grave first and pressed a hand to the cold marble of the headstone.

“I know,” he started out and then cut himself off. He’d been visiting these graves for years, but he’d never done this before. There was no point in talking to the dead, after all. But Jon’s visit had shaken him more then he cared to admit; had made him start questioning himself and his decisions. He took a deep breath and then tried again.

“I know you wouldn’t…be proud of me, of what I’m doing. You’d want me to be the better man. To serve Father’s brand of forgiving justice. But don’t you see? That’s why I have to do this. I’m not the better man. I can’t show them mercy or forgiveness, when they showed none to you. Father would say that if I _really_ loved you, I’d do what you wished, not I what I want.”

He snorted, “Father can shove it up his ass.”

He leaned forward and ghosted his lips across the marble, “I’m going to save the world, Richard. I’m sorry you aren’t here to see it.”

Next, he moved to Timothy’s grave. He sat down on a patch of grass that was finally starting to dry from the morning dew and leaned back against the headstone, making himself comfortable. He’d loved his brother, but that didn’t mean he was suddenly going to show him the respect in death that he hadn’t in life. He tilted his head, rested it against the stone behind him, and let his eyes drift shut; content to bask in the warm dawn sun.

“You would’ve understood,” he told Timothy absently, opening his eyes to watch he morning clouds roll by. “You’d never admit it, but you would have. That’s why Grandfather coveted you so, you were smart enough to bend father’s rules when you needed to, and smart enough to get away with it.”

He patted the headstone and mused aloud, “I do not think you would appreciate how far I’ve gone though.” He shrugged his shoulders, feeling a little more like his old self again; feeling more relaxed, here with his family, then he’d let himself feel in a long time. “If you wanted a say, you should not have gone and died.”

That had been the incident that had pushed him to the edge. Richard’s death just sent him over it.

It had been a coordinated attack from some of the Justice’s Leagues biggest enemies. They’d knocked out all of America’s power grids and had initiated a synchronized a full throttle assault. It had taken two weeks to put an end to the attack and another week to get power restored. During that time over a million people died and thousands of cold storage vaccines and medications had spoiled, leading to the deaths of millions more in the following weeks. Timothy being amongst those numbers. It had been an infection that should’ve been treatable. Would’ve been under normal circumstances. Would’ve been prevented had those villains been where they’d belonged—in the ground, six feet under an untitled granite marker—instead of in the same prisons they’d escaped from dozens of times.

A year after that, Richard was killed in a terrorist attack on a public mall. The Neo Free Earth movement had been a radical group against meta humans and other powered beings. They’d attacked the mall that day, acting on information that a rising pop star—and rumored meta—was hosting a concert in the food court.

That was the moment that Damian realized that the world count not continue on as it had been. The heroes had to change, yes, but so did the people they protected. The termination of every member of the NFE was Damian’s first official act as the Demon’s head.

“Jon visited last week,” he said after a while. His brothers had always liked the youngest Kent, thought was softening Damian up. “It’s why I came here today, instead of waiting for Christmas. He makes me doubt what I’m doing. I needed to be reminded.”

He pushed himself off of the ground and dusted the dirt and grass from his slacks, thinking as he did. His brothers had been right, Jon had softened him up. Mother always told him that weaknesses of the self must be eliminated, and it was the time for Damian to do just that. He started down the hill, towards one of the Cave’s older entrances before he paused.

“I’ll visit soon.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! This is a set up for the next fic, which I already have mapped out in my head and I'm working on already. Though the next chapter of The Things You Say will most likely be posted before the next story of this series.


End file.
